A whirlwind of reaction caught me up this morning: reacting to every little thing–to the blockage I feel inside, to the time on the clock marking me later and later for work, to all the things that feel out of reach– and this reacting surely made them feel even further away. The later it got, the more frozen I became, unable to move forward without resolution and yet stuck in a feedback loop of nit-picking and personal blame. It’s not how I like to be. In fact I hesitate to write these words at all, for fear of exposing a harder part of myself, but I write them to share this:
In the middle of it all, Edge said, If we do not find the lightheartedness in everything, then we will never know true happiness.
I didn’t tell him at the time, but I stopped, opened my journal, and wrote down his words. I thought, I am married to a zen master. Though he wouldn’t tell you that. He’d just tell you that everyday he chooses to live a simple happiness.
I finally got to my car, vowed to drive slow since I was already late, and began to inch along our frozen driveway until our neighbor came running out waving his hands. I stopped before the steep slope of the drive and rolled down my window. “Please don’t try to go down…we fishtailed the whole way down, and more than once I thought we were going to end up in the creek. There’s no friction at all…In seven years it’s never been this bad.”
So here I am. Despite the barriers I felt earlier, time has arrived and given me this day. It took a while to shake the morning off, but the last of it is slipping away, and I offer it up to the sky to wash away with all this rain.
Edge told me to do what makes me happy, so I put on the Wailin’ Jennys, turned up the music and sang. I snuggled with Waylon until it was time for his nap. I sat down here and wrote these words. And so much of the day is still to come.
Pictures that make me happy